Great Expectations Epilogue
by Cincin
Summary: Pip must take care of Estella's child after her death.


Great Expectations Epilogue  
  
"Here are the insurance claims, Uncle Pip," Pip, or Pippy, the son of my dear friends Joe and Biddy told me one morning at work. Just eighteen, Pippy was a new clerk at my insurance firm of Pocket and Pirrip, named after the founders, Herbert Pocket and myself.  
  
"Excellent," I told Pippy, "You've been doing a fine job, lad. I will be reporting this to your mother and father." He grinned, saluted, and was off. I smiled and looked around to gather my bearings. Nineteen years I've been here. Ever since we were adolescents, Herbert and I had dreamed of owning such a business. My smile turned into a frown as I glanced at the morning papers. There was a sketch of a middle aged woman, surely a beauty in her younger days. Her bottomless eyes stirred a thought in my mind. Could it be? I snatched up the paper for a closer look.  
  
As luck would have had it, before I could read the article, Herbert burst into my office without knocking. A childhood friend, who owns the firm of Pocket and Pirrip along with myself, I would trust Herbert with my life. When he rushed into my office, I knew something important had just occurred. "Handel!" he breathlessly cried using his nickname for me, "There's a disaster in the lobby. It seems as if one of our clerks got in a tight position with the new mail boy. The first punches have been thrown!" I jumped out of my chair. A fight! We didn't need this sort of behavior around.  
  
"Who hired this clerk, anyway?" I asked Herbert with agitation. He shrugged. "Where's the fire?" I asked, scanning the lobby once we reached it. Herbert gave me a look of false ignorance, as if to say, "What fire?"  
  
As sudden as a thunderstorm on a midsummer afternoon, and with just as much fervor, a loud "Surprise!" sounded around me. Employees and friends appeared from behind doors in the lobby. "Happy Birthday, my dear Handel," Herbert congratulated me. "We know how hard you work, so we, your faithful employees, wanted to reward you with a surprise party." As for me? I was stunned. Stunned that I had forgotten by own birthday and also at the loyalty of everyone else.  
  
The celebration continued excellently. Many of my old friends came up to congratulate me on seeing my forty second year. Soon, my employees were urging me to make a speech. "Mr. Pip! Mr. Pip! Mr. Pip!" they shouted. With a shy smile, I tapped by glass of wine for attention.  
  
I cleared my throat, "My dear friends and colleagues, how can I ever forgive you?" I heard a murmur ripple across the audience. Could their dear president truly be so cold? "How can I forgive you for reminding me that I'm forty-two, that is." They chuckled to this. "But I must confess that I can think of no better way to acknowledge my age than by sharing today with all of you!"  
  
"Hear, hear!" Pippy shouted. "Let's all have a toast to Mr. Pip." The lobby went back to bustling like a swarm of contented bees on a warm May day.  
  
Herbert took this opportunity to tell me that Joe and Biddy invited him, Pippy, myself, along with Wemmick, to have a birthday dinner in my honor at their house over in Kent that night. Was I the only soul in all of England who forgot the significance of September 27? I readily agreed to pay my old friends a visit.  
  
As the carriage pulled into Joe Gargary's house, I looked around with a profound sense of fondness. Biddy opened the front door and raced towards us with wide open arms. "Pip, dear! Come in, all of you – I don't want my delectable supper to go cold." Inside the house, Joe sat at the kitchen table wearing one of his finest suits. On the table itself were biscuits, chicken with gravy, and plenty of fresh vegetables. Pippy and I, the only ones of the bunch without wives, tackled the food with vigor.  
  
"Where did you learn to cook like this, Mother?" Pippy managed to inquire between mouthfuls.  
  
"It's a secret recipe. Don't eat it all, dear. Your birthday isn't too far off," Biddy tartly replied. After we all licked the last crumb off our plates, Biddy brought in an aromatic peach cobbler for desert.  
  
"This is excellent!" I commented, "You truly outdid yourself this time, Biddy."  
  
"It was nothing," she said. I knew she was being modest; Biddy was never interested in domestic affairs, but always had her nose in a book instead. Even now, full grown with a child of her own, she can often be found sitting underneath a tree with her head in the pages of a text about medicine or the Crusades.  
  
Joe and Biddy told us about Mr. Pumblechook and how he moved to France in search of "better acquaintances." Wemmick had a chuckle over that one, "A couple weeks ago, I received a letter from him begging Mr. Jaggers for some names of people he knows in France."  
  
"How's that old man doing, anyhow?" Joe asked.  
  
"Jaggers?" Joe nodded. "He's going about his business as usual. There are more clients than ever. Just last week, two new clerks were hired to keep up with the customers."  
  
Herbert interrupted, "When are you going to open your own firm and stop being a slave at that stuffy Little Britain, Wemmick?"  
  
I counted in my head; Wemmick had been working for Mr. Jaggers for twenty- five years already! He bristled at the insinuation, "For your information, Mr. Pocket, I'm very content doing what I do. And," he added, directing the conversation away from himself, "by no means am I a workaholic, like our friend Pip."  
  
I felt all the eyes around the table focus at me. "Of course not," I gave off a nervous laugh, "What makes you think that?"  
  
"Forgetting your own birthday for one!" Pippy exclaimed.  
  
"Only coming to visit us twice a year, always with the excuse that you're too busy," added Biddy with a shake of her head. Joe nodded in agreement.  
  
I looked at Herbert for support; he only shrugged, "I hate to say it, but it's true. Remember that time you refused to see a girl when we were busy with some insurance claims?"  
  
"This is ridiculous!" I stammered, "You know that Pocket and Pirrip needed me there to do the paperwork!" I quickly excused myself and retreated to my room.  
  
One problem of the archaic house which Joe and Biddy have made their home is that its walls are so thin I could hear all the guests in the kitchen beneath me. It wasn't my fault that I overhead their conversation about, as luck would have had it, me.  
  
The first voice I heard belonged to Herbert, "Whatever happened to the old Pip? Remember when he first learned about his great expectations? Did we spend foolishly, but lavishly in those days! He didn't have a care in the world. Oh! But those were the days…"  
  
"Yes," Joe's deep voice, "How could I forget? You two spent so much time carousing vith the vealthy that Biddy and I were completely ignored!"  
  
"Now, now, Joe," Biddy tried to soothe him, "That was twenty years ago; Pip's a man now. Though when he started to seek refuge in his work, I can't say."  
  
"Well…there was that event with Estella. Ever since then, he's never been the same…" Herbert mused.  
  
That was when I stopped listening. I lay down on my downy bed and closed my eyes, trying to seek some relief from the realities of the day. My mind couldn't help but wander to the conversation below. What if they're right, I wondered. Don't be ridiculous, the practical part of my brain told me, I hadn't seen Estella for 19 years. She was probably doing fine without me. The sky started to rumble. I listened to the soothing pitter-patter of the rain. After a few minutes, I left my present state and drifted off to another world.  
  
I was in a museum staring at a painting. "Beauty coming out of her Shell", the painting was titled. Beauty was a young woman with beautiful, chestnut hair. Her expression was forlorn and a field of daisies surrounded her. Her subtle features begged me to touch them. I couldn't resist. As my hand brushed across her static face, my fingers felt a tingling sensation while I became unconscious.  
  
When I open my eyes, I found myself in the painting with Beauty. "Hello," I said to her. She remained still, like a statue. "Won't you speak?" I begged. Her stoic expression remained unchanging. I began to cry buckets of tears for the love I could never have.  
  
I awoke from my nightmare with wet cheeks. There was no doubt in my mind that I had been dreaming about Estella. Why couldn't things have turned out differently? I would give anything to see her again, as cold and scornful as she was. But alas, at least Estella's happy. Don't think about that, Pip, a voice inside my head spoke, Think about all the orders and paperwork you must take care of tomorrow. I nodded my head, closed my eyes, and drifted back into my restful state.  
  
Wemmick, Herbert, Pippy and I returned to London the following day. I had just settled down in my leather chair when I heard a knock on the door. "Come right in," I cheerfully shouted. The door was opened hesitantly and in stepped a man getting along in his years with a scraggy gray beard. His dress, however, was very formal. A hat and heavy jacket marked him as a man of good standing. "Can I help you, sir?"  
  
"Don't you recognize me, boy?" The man asked.  
  
"I'm sorry, but I don't think we've met…"  
  
He cut me off, "Foolish boy! It's me – Jaggers!"  
  
"M…Mr. Jaggers?" I was bewildered; this was the first time I'd seen the man in fifteen years.  
  
"The one and only of Little Britain."  
  
"Well, why didn't you just say so? Please, have a seat. How are you doing?"  
  
Mr. Jaggers waved his hand, "What is this nonsense? I'm here for one reason only. It's Estella."  
  
I jerked forward in my seat, "Is she all right?"  
  
He drew in his breath, "Let me start from the beginning. After her divorce from Drummle, Estella met a man by the name of Marbury, a banker in Liverpool. They moved there and had a son by the name of Phillip. They lived a quiet, carefree life up into January of last year. That was when the bank went out of business and Marbury lost his job. He started to indulge himself in…the art of alcohol consumption."  
  
My eyes grew wide as I caught my hand edge of the desk. I knew what drunks liked to do their wives and children.  
  
"He started to take everything out on Estella," Jaggers continued, "believing it was her lavish spending that lead to his destruction. Last Friday night, an incident occurred in which Marbury came home drunk. The neighbors report hearing a cacophonous symphony coming from the Marbury home. Later that night, Marbury left. In the morning, a few neighbors ventured in the house."  
  
I was afraid to ask what they found.  
  
"They found Estella, lying on her bed, her face blue from being strangled. The police came for questioning, but the son didn't admit anything. Medical examiners concluded that she died from asphyxiation. Only her husband could have inflicted the damage. He still hasn't been found, though."  
  
I was dumbfounded. Estella – her beauty, her freedom, her life, lost at the hands of a monster. "He will pay for this," I murmured through clenched teeth.  
  
"What was that?"  
  
"Nothing, Mr. Jaggers." By that point, I was almost shaking.  
  
"If you look in yesterday's paper, there's a decent article about her in it." So that was the picture of her that had stirred an emotion in my mind. Jaggers remained unaffected by my state. "What I came here to tell you was that I'm having trouble placing the boy. None of the relatives want him because of his insolence. I was wondering if, perhaps, you could take him in until his father is found?"  
  
I saw two problems right away. First, how could I take care of business with a child to look after – a ruffian, at that. More deeply buried was the fear of having a constant reminder of what should have been mine twenty- four hours a day. "I'm sorry, Mr. Jaggers," I replied, "It will affect my business too much."  
  
For the first time ever, I saw the lawyer's mouth open in an O. After a moment, "Well then, I'm sure something else can be arranged. Good day Mr. Pip."  
  
"Good day." With that, the door slammed, leaving me alone in the room with my thoughts.  
  
"How terrible!" was Herbert's first reaction when I told him the tragic news.  
  
We were eating lunch at a local pub. An argument between two rough looking men could be heard behind us. Biting into my portion of corn bread, I began to have second thoughts about Phillip, "Do you think I should take the boy in?"  
  
"And have a constant reminder of her?" he stated the final word with contempt. "I know you used to love her, dear Handel, but it has been nineteen years. As I've told you before, it's not worth returning affection to someone who didn't feel that way towards you."  
  
"But, Herbert, he's just a poor child."  
  
"A poor child?" he scoffed, "You just told me that no relatives want him. It will help him to be sent to an orphanage."  
  
"I suppose you're right. But Herbert, her death could have been prevented if…if.."  
  
"If what, Handel? If you'd have been there?" I blushed. "Now you're being impractical. Estella's the one who chose not to contact you. She never gave you her address even though she must have known where you were. No one of prominence in England is ignorant of Pocket and Pirrip!" I silently fumed. "Come on, old chap, you know that the only one at fault is Marbury." He took another sip of tea.  
  
"He belongs in Newgate and I'll help him get there," I declared.  
  
"Oh no you don't. Remember, we swore off any criminal attempt after you nearly died in that encounter with Compeyson. Nothing good came of that."  
  
"Yes," I muttered under my breath, "But something good will happen this time."  
  
Herbert cast me a suspicious glance but continued to chew his biscuit. The argument behind us had turned into a full-fledged brawl where things were being thrown, so Herbert and I prepared to leave.  
  
As I stood up, Herbert yelled, "Watch out!" I only had time to turn around and see a glass coming straight towards me – then, nothing.  
  
This time I stood before a glassy lake. Estella stood next to me. "Pip, I've finally found you," she said. I turned my head. "I need your help, Pip." Those dark pools of her eyes silently implored me. She reached for my hand, but I refused to grasp it. I took one last look at the beauty in a pale white dress, heavily contrasting with her luscious chestnut hair and turn my back…  
  
"He needs to stay here overnight for it to fully heal," I heard a calm voice say.  
  
Then Herbert's voice stepped in, "Yes, Doctor. But I'll stay here until he wakes up."  
  
I opened my eyes. The sunlight through the windows made me squint as I looked about the bare room. Herbert's head was the only thing I recognized. "Where am I?"  
  
"Handel, glad to see you're all right." Herbert then recounted the event that took place in the pub. "I'm sorry you have to miss work to stay here…"  
  
I held up my hand, "Actually, this incident has been a blessing in disguise." I chuckled at Herbert's expression – gawking at me like I had two noses. "Don't be so surprised. I've had a moment of enlightenment. I've been selfish, Herbert. There are more important things in life than work. And you're right; Pocket and Pirrip can run smoothly without me. When you return back to the office, please tell everyone that I will be taking two days off work to reach Mr. Jaggers and get Phillip."  
  
"What? Are you out of your mind!"  
  
"That's what I've decided. Don't question my decision. Now if you will please leave me, I need my rest." I dismissed an aghast Herbert with a wave of my hand.  
  
As I told Herbert I would, I contacted Jaggers next day to inquire about Phillip. I visited him at Little Britain, the same building he's been practicing at since the beginning of his career. The same three pictures of clients greeted me in the lobby. A clerk escorted me to Jaggers' office. "Here you are, Mr. Pirrip."  
  
"Thank you." I closed the door behind me and found myself in a reversed role from yesterday. This time, I was the one in front of the desk and Mr. Jaggers was behind.  
  
"Sit down," the old man ordered.  
  
I obeyed. "Hello, Mr. Jaggers. I've decided to take Phillip in until his father is found."  
  
"Good decision."  
  
I smiled in spite of myself. "When can I expect him?"  
  
"Whenever you can pick him up from Liverpool. The sooner the better."  
  
"All right. I'll arrange a coach as soon as I can."  
  
"Good. It's settled then."  
  
"Yes." That was quick. I had always been used to slow legal procedures. I extended my hand. Jaggers gave it a quick shake. On that note, I left the office, beaming. Little could I see how my actions of that day would impact my life.  
  
The following day, I set out in a coach to Liverpool. Though incommodious and rough, at least I was the only passenger. Along the bumpy ride, I thought about Estella. "Ah, Estella," I said out loud, "there's no need to worry, wherever you may be. You have made me seen how selfish my behavior has been. I will turn your Phillip into a gentleman and find that ne'er do well Marbury. Trust me, Estella. I know I wasn't there for you before, but this time all will turn out right."  
  
"Here you are, sir," the coach driver told me.  
  
I stepped out of the coach and looked about. The house before me couldn't have been over thirty years old. It was painted in a dark green with white shutters. As I rang the door bell with my right hand, my left straightened my tie. A red haired woman of about thirty answered the door. "You must be Mr. Pirrip," she said, scanning my figure with her eyes. I told her that I was indeed the man. "I am Mrs. Newman, a neighbor. The lawyer Mr. Jaggers hired me to take care of the boy until someone came to claim him. I thought you would never arrive," the woman continued, "Please come in." The interior of the house was very modern and well lit, nothing like Miss Havisham's house. Estella kept a good house, by the looks of it. The lady continued to talk to me, "That boy is an honest to God handful. Always demanding this, rejecting that. He can't be satisfied. And his behavior - atrocious! He's been unruly ever since that insurance claim came in. Mrs. Marbury, it seems, had a lot more money than she ever told her husband. Now that boy will have it all. Some are speculating that that's the real reason Marbury killed her." I turned sharply to her. Could it really be true? The boy at the bottom of the stairs interrupted my flow of thought.  
  
A male version of his mother, Phillip Marbury had dark hair and eyes. About average height, he even had the same stoic expression on his face. Cleanly dressed as well, I immediately took a liking to him. "Hello, Philip," I said. He looked at me with a blank stare. "A shy fellow, eh? Come on now, let's go to the coach."  
  
In the safe confinement of the coach, Phillip came alive. Turning to me he said, "I know you believe you're doing a good thing. But you're not. I don't care what your intentions are. You are not my father so I won't behave as though you are." I had never been expected to be lectured like this by a child. Slightly embarrassed, I shifted towards my window, as did the boy.  
  
As soon as we reached London, I got off the coach at Little Britain with Phillip at my side. I gave the boy to one of Jaggers' clerks and marched into the lawyer's office. "You should have told me the boy was an heir!" I yelled.  
  
Jaggers sighed, "I knew the truth could not be kept from you. Sit down and I'll tell you the whole story."  
  
I sat, eager to hear the facts. Jaggers began, "As you're well aware of, Miss Havisham left Estella a large sum in her death. Estella appointed me to take care of this money and see to it that only Phillip receives when she dies. She never expected that Marbury would want this money since his profession is a highly stable one. She never told him that she even had any money. However, when Marbury lost his job, he probably did some digging around and found out her money. It's possible that he killed her for it, believing that it will go to him. Now that it hasn't, he must suspect that his son has it and may be after Phillip. That was the main reason I wanted you to look after Phillip. First of all, I know that you will take care of him, but I also want to keep him away from any of Marbury's relatives. I, unfortunately, had to notify Phillip about this money right after Estella's death because it was a term of the will. Now we must do the best we can to prevent Phillip from seeing Marbury until the boy's adult enough to understand the menace that is his father."  
  
For the second time in two days, I sat speechless. Oh, Estella, I thought, I've already vowed to change Phillip into a gentleman and to see Marbury locked behind bars, but this makes everything so much harder. But I will do it, my dear. Anything for you. To Jaggers, I said, "I will just stick to the original plan and treat him like I'm oblivious to his fortune. It's obvious Phillip doesn't want me to know since he's made no mention of it yet."  
  
"Perhaps he thinks he has some advantage over you with his money."  
  
"Probably. Well, thank you for informing me, Mr. Jaggers. I will guard Phillip to the best of my ability. Good day."  
  
Out in the lobby, Phillip was slouched a chair, a bored expression on his face. "Finally you're back," he said.  
  
"Come on, Phillip, why don't I show you your new home?"  
  
Although he didn't admit it, I could tell that Phillip was impressed by his new bedroom in my apartment. He immediately began to look around and closed the door.  
  
I took this opportunity to invite Herbert up for a chat.  
  
"How did it go?" He asked.  
  
"Not so well." I told him about Phillip being an heir.  
  
"I told you to not take him in…" he shook his head. "Now you've got yourself a living bomb in your apartment."  
  
"Don't be ridiculous! I will take care of him like any other boy. With a firm hand, I can turn him into a gentleman."  
  
"I hope you do, dear friend."  
  
I heard a door open behind me. "I'm starving!" Phillip complained, stepping out of his room.  
  
"We'll have supper in just a moment, Phillip," I assured him, "In the meantime, let me introduce you to Herbert, a close friend of mine." The boy just stared at Herbert like he had stared at me earlier in the day. "He's shy." I told Herbert. He sighed in response as if he doubted what I said.  
  
For supper, I served steak and baked potato. "Eat as much as you'd like," I told Phillip.  
  
"I refuse to touch this garbage. This is not worthy of being called steak. At home, I only had Salisbury Steak. I will wait for desert, thank you."  
  
"I'm sorry, Phillip, but I don't think there's anything in the apartment I can serve for desert."  
  
"No desert?" Phillip looked bewildered, "And I thought you were supposed to be well off!" Without asking to be excused, the boy took leave of the dining room.  
  
"There he goes," Herbert said wryly, "I warned you that he will be a handful."  
  
"He's probably just nervous about being in a stranger's house. One can't expect too much of a twelve year old."  
  
"One should expect him to have manners," Herbert rejoined. I kept my mouth closed but agreed with Herbert in my head.  
  
In bed that night, all my thoughts drifted towards the sleeping boy in the next room. He just needs a little love, I told myself. He'll come around in time. Besides, no son of Estella's can be cruel.  
  
"Herbert!" I called as I entered Pocket and Pirrip a few days later, "I need to leave for a few minutes to buy some desert for tonight's supper. It's for the boy."  
  
"Go ahead."  
  
At the grocer's, I chose some pie. I hoped Phillip would like them. I had chosen a school to send him to the previous morning so I could go to work while he went to school. It was the best boy's school in London. I couldn't help but feel smug.  
  
Back at the office, a clerk approached me. "Mr. Pip, a note arrived for you from The Boy's Academy. I put it on your desk." Indeed, a note greeted me when I entered my office.  
  
Mr. Pirrip,  
  
Phillip has been truant since his first day of school. He never pays attention in class. His attitude distracts the other students. We know you are a man of virtue and would like you to talk to Phillip about his behavior.  
  
Headmaster Grant  
  
I seethed. How dare he so blatantly refuse any offers of mine to help him! When four o'clock rolled around, I left my office early, once again, to see if Phillip had returned home. He was in his bedroom, the door wide open, writing a letter of some sort. "Phillip!" I demanded, "Come out of that room this instant! I want to talk to you about your behavior." He slowly trudged over. I showed him the note. "What is this, Phillip? Why have you been missing your classes? It's for your own good."  
  
"That's what everyone says. I don't see what's so good about sending me here to live with you when I could live with my father."  
  
"Your father's lost, for Heaven's sake!"  
  
He opened his mouth, as if to argue, but then nodded, "That doesn't mean I should listen to you! You're nothing close to a father!"  
  
"Phillip," I lowered my tone, "I know I can't replace your father, but can't you see I'm trying my hardest? Now attend the Academy; it's the best I can do."  
  
He didn't reply but retreated to his room.  
  
The message seemed to have gotten through to him for I didn't receive any more notes the following week, or the week after that. In the meantime, I borrowed some books on child rearing from the library.  
  
I was scanning the pages of one of these books when Herbert walked into my office. "In case you've forgotten," he began, "I'm here to remind you of the meeting we have with some of our biggest clients tomorrow. Just be sure you'll be here and not off on one of your forays to the library or to get dessert."  
  
I put down the book, "What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"You know exactly what I mean. Just be here." Before I could reply, Herbert closed the door behind him. Had I really been so tied up with Phillip's things that I had forgotten about the meeting? This was a first and will be the last, I vowed. Besides, Phillip was really settling in. There had been no instances for awhile.  
  
The next day, a man greeted me at the main entrance of Pocket and Pirrip. "Mr. Pip? A message fur ya," he gruffly handed it over, "Said it had to be hand delivered."  
  
"Thank you," I said and took the message inside. It was another from the school.  
  
Dear Mr. Pirrip,  
  
I've been sending you notes for the past few weeks, but it seems you haven't received them for some reason. Phillip has kept up his behavior. It seems to have gotten worse. Last week, he placed a frog on one of his teacher's seat. As you can imagine, this distracted all the boys from their lessons for the rest of the day. We are suspending Phillip starting tomorrow for a week.  
  
Headmaster Grant  
  
I dropped the notice. How could Phillip have disguised all this from me for so long? Was I not being careful enough? I decided that I would stay home with the boy for the entire week to keep and eye on him. I returned home at four, the time when school ends, to wait for Phillip.  
  
As I suspected he would, he was extremely resentful at the news. "Suspension?"  
  
"Not only that, what did you do with the notices?"  
  
"That was easy. One of your clerks gladly excepted money to keep them from you."  
  
Not wanting to dwell on that subject, I continued "I'm going to be here to look after you during your suspension."  
  
"I'm not a child."  
  
"You are a child of twelve."  
  
"Now I won't ever have any fun!"  
  
"That's not true," I quickly racked my brain for ideas, "We can go to museums or even take some day trips to other cities."  
  
"I would love that!"  
  
"Really?" I was pleased.  
  
"I want to go to Liverpool."  
  
I was nervous about taking him to his old town, "Is there any specific reason?"  
  
"No…no reason," he said, perhaps a little too quickly.  
  
"Ok then. We'll leave tomorrow." At that moment, our conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door. It was Herbert with a look of anger on his face.  
  
"You promised you would be there," he hissed at me through clench teeth.  
  
I stared at him for a moment before it dawned on me; there had been a meeting earlier that day. "I had to be with Phillip. He was suspended."  
  
"He's been nothing but trouble for you, Handel," Herbert said with contempt as if the boy wasn't within hearing.  
  
"It's not his fault. He's adjusting."  
  
"That's what you said two months ago. I hope you know what you're doing."  
  
"Since you seem to be in control of my life, all of a sudden, perhaps you'd like to know that I'm taking the week off to take Herbert to Liverpool."  
  
"Liverpool is it? Have you forgotten that Joe's birthday is in three days? Every year we go to his house to celebrate."  
  
I scratched my head – not another dilemma. I looked over at Phillip who was pouting. "I really really really want to go to Liverpool!" he pouted.  
  
I made up my mind, "I guess Joe will just have to wait, Herbert. Besides, I see him every year."  
  
My friend shook his head.  
  
"If that's the way you feel, just leave. Goodbye, Herbert." He left without a word.  
  
I turned to Phillip, "Do you think that was rude of me?"  
  
He scoffed, "It was his fault."  
  
"Yes, yes," I said, more to myself than to Phillip, "Herbert shouldn't be controlling my life like that.  
  
The week at Liverpool was uneventful. Despite the one time when Phillip wasn't in the hotel room when I awoke, everything else went smoothly. I believed that we were bonding. On the day of our return to London, I sat down with Phillip.  
  
"This is your last chance at the Academy, do you understand?" I spoke in a stern tone. Phillip nodded. "Behave yourself this time or you will be expelled. Do you understand?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Good," I patted him on the back.  
  
Back in London, Phillip kept his word. A few weeks passed until the Christmas holiday arrived. I annually held a party on Christmas Day in my flat. This year would be no exception. The caterers and decorators began to work weeks in advance. One day, marveling at all the décor around the house, Phillip said, "I hope I get many presents on Christmas!"  
  
"Of course you will," I promised. In fact, I had already sent for the items that I planned to give Phillip.  
  
Christmas Day arrived quickly. In the morning, I awoke to the sounds of packages tearing. Wearing my bathrobe, I walked over to the living room. There was Phillip with a frown on his face.  
  
"Do you like them?" I feared the answer.  
  
"They're all right."  
  
I had bought him a telescope, some books, amongst them Darwin's Origin of Species, and a brand new football. It hurt me that he loathed them, but I was pleased that he didn't complain aloud. I foolishly stood amidst the pile of wrapping paper until I realized that Phillip hadn't anything to give me. "You better get dressed, Phillip. The caterers will be here with the food in an hour."  
  
My Christmas celebration drew many people like always. Many of the top employees at Pocket and Pirrip came along with their families. Everyone inquired about Phillip. "What a handsome boy!" most of them seemed to exclaim.  
  
I smiled at all of my guests as I circled the room, but was secretly looking for Joe and Biddy. I came across Herbert instead. Our relationship had been strained ever since the day before the trip into Liverpool. "Have you seen Joe or Biddy?" I asked him.  
  
He raised his eyebrows, "You mean you haven't heard? They've decided not to come for fear that you would cancel it because of some emergency caused by the boy. Excuse me while I get some more food."  
  
His words cut me like a thousand knives. I couldn't imagine how Joe and Biddy could be so cruel. My thoughts were interrupted by a commotion in the center of the room. "Oh my!" I heard a lady gasp. I pushed my way through the sea of people to see what was causing the stir. Phillip was in the middle of the room with the books I had given him for Christmas. He was tearing each page out in a slow, agonizing manner.  
  
"What are you doing?" I asked in a polite tone, not wanting to gossip amongst the guests.  
  
"Get me out of here!" Phillip called out to my guests. "This man is a monster! Can't you see he's a heretic? It's not just his beliefs either; he treats me terribly as well. He yells for no specific reason. Please help! I'll pay you!"  
  
Phillip could have gone on if Herbert hadn't stepped in to save me. "Calm down, boy," he said. He addressed the guests; "This is Pip Pirrip who this boy is talking about. Now we here all know that Pip's a great person. Phillip is just having a little trouble right now, so Phillip, please go back to your bedroom and cool down a bit."  
  
Hearing these words from Herbert, all my guests returned to their previous activity. Herbert approached me. "I guess you're ready to apologize," he said.  
  
I shot him a glance, "You must be mad! I could have handled that situation perfectly fine."  
  
Herbert shook his head in remorse, "You'll never learn, will you?" I was disgusted with this conversation and moved on to talk to other guests.  
  
Later that evening, when the last guest left and Phillip was asleep, I lay down in bed with a loud sigh of relief. I was still in shock over the scene Phillip caused. Closing my eyes, Estella's figure formulated in my eye's mine. Am I doing something wrong, Estella? I begged of the mystic being, Why does Phillip hate me so? Herbert must loathe me as well, after tonight's incident. It felt good to let someone else know of my feelings, even if that someone else was but a figment of the imagination.  
  
For the following days, from Boxing Day to New Year's Eve, I tried to talk to Phillip, but he wouldn't leave his room. No one came to call, leaving me alone with myself for seven days. During that time, I tried to think of ways to amend my relationship with Phillip. Nothing came to mind. I finally decided to return to work on January second. However, I had slept in that morning and arrived at my office late. Entering my office, I found Herbert reading my mail. "Who gave you the right to be in here?" I confronted him.  
  
"Who gave me the right to check your mail that you've been behind on for over two weeks? How dare you ask me that question! I'm wondering what gave you the right to turn your back on all your employees just so you could take care of a child you pity?"  
  
"You know that's not it. He's my responsibility!"  
  
"Why is that? Because you feel guilty for Estella, that's why! I know you too well, Pip, I can see right through your facade."  
  
"Can you now? And what might that be?"  
  
"You think that you're somehow making up for losing Estella by taking in her son. I don't know much, but I know for certain that it's a hopeless cause."  
  
"I'm not taking any of this from you!" I said out loud but knew Phillip was correct. I hastily returned to my apartment. I opened my bedroom door to find Phillip scourging my closet. "Young man, what do you think you're doing?!" I had never expected to see Phillip crawling around in my room without permission. He didn't stop, however. "I mean it this time. Get out." My tone was escalating with each vowel, "It's my fault that I haven't bee strict with you before, but this time I am serious." The meaning of my message finally dawned on Phillip and he left my room. Out of breath from the past half hour's worth of straining conversation, I collapsed on my bed.  
  
I woke up three hours later. Deciding to tell Phillip about my new decision to send him to boarding school, I knocked on his bedroom door. There was no answer for many minutes. Using my discrepancy, I decided to enter the room. The door easily swung open into a room void of people. Phillip must have left while I was sleeping. I walked into the room to see if he took all his clothes with him. Everything was there. One thing that caught be eye, however, was a yellowed piece of paper on his desk. The note was crinkled, like it had been exchanged many times before it reached Phillip. Written in a smooth hand, I wondered who would write something like this to Phillip. Out of curiosity, I read the note. Its contents shocked me:  
  
Phillip,  
  
Do not show this notice to anyone. I know of all the misery you've seen in the care of that wretched Pirrip fellow. I've finally gathered enough money to go to London and pick you up. I will be waiting for you on January 2nd at the back of Little Britain. You know where that is. I have found us a place to live.  
  
Your loving father  
  
Lies! A lure I thought, as I read the terse script. A sense of dread filled me as it registered in my mind that Phillip must have gone out in search if his father. Without thinking of anything else, I grabbed a coat and caught a coach to Little Britain.  
  
The night sky was overcast. I fidgeted in my with anticipation. I had fallen asleep for three hours – who knew when Phillip had left my apartment? The coach soon rumbled to a stop in front of Little Britain. I paid the driver with all the coins from my pocket and jogged to the back of the building. As I rounded the corner, I was caught unawares by a garbage pail, tripping over it head first. Dusting myself off, I glimpsed the fleeting image of a man running. I stealthily approached the man, who I believed was Phillip's father.  
  
Turning another corner, I walked into the man. He had a surprised look on his face, like he wasn't expecting me here. "Who are you?" he asked.  
  
"What did you do with Phillip?" I demanded.  
  
"You! You're Pirrip. Phillip is my child, not yours. I can do whatever I want with him." Just then, Phillip came running into the arms of his father. I tugged at the boy's sleeve.  
  
"Phillip, you must get away from your father," I warned him, "He's lying to you so you'll go with him. Then, he can have the money your mother left you. The note was a trap. There is no home!"  
  
Marbury's eyes grew wilder by the second, "Don't believe a word he says, son. You know I would never do anything to harm you. It's me you've been writing all those letters to while you were with this monster. Don't you remember all those horrific incidents you told me about? And that visit in Liverpool?"  
  
I was putting the past few months together in my mind. All those times Phillip missed school, the letters he wrote in mystery, the trip to Liverpool. It had all been communication with his father. By then Phillip had a confused expression on his face, like a dog that doesn't know its master. I tried to reason with Phillip once more, "What about us, Phillip? Haven't I been patient with you?"  
  
"Shut up!" Marbury screamed. Then, slowly it seemed, as if I was looking at a series of photographs, Marbury reached his hand into his coat pocket, pulled out a shotgun and aimed it a me. A loud POP sounded as I fell on my back. The last thing I heard was the sound of footsteps running away.  
  
"You are a very lucky man," Dr. Kane told me two days later at the hospital, "You were only hit in the left arm. I doubt you'll be able to use it from now on, but it's better than being dead. Mr. Pirrip, you'll need to stay a few more nights. Right now, I'll leave you alone with some visitors." As the doctor opened the door to leave, Joe, Biddy, Wemmick, Herbert, and Phillip walked in.  
  
"You're a hero, Joe!" Biddy hugged me, "Here's a batch of cookies I made expressly for you." I kissed her cheek in return.  
  
"A hero?" I asked, "but I was shot!"  
  
"They caught Marbury because of you," Wemmick added. One by one, everyone filled me on the details of the night. Someone a street away heard the shot and notified the police. Within half an hour, Marbury was caught trying to escape on a stolen coach. Phillip had already run away to Herbert's home. That's where the boy stayed for the past day.  
  
After a last round of kisses, Joe, Biddy, and Wemmick left, leaving my best friend, the boy, and I together.  
  
"I realized the truth about my father, Mr. Pirrip," Phillip wistfully said, "At first I was upset. But then I realized that you have been a better father than he ever could be. You even risked your life to look for me. Please give me another chance. I can be a good boy." I nodded with tears in my eyes and gave Phillip a giant right-handed hug.  
  
"I should apologize too," I turned my attention to Herbert, "for treating my best friend like vulgar the past few weeks. You were right; I was spending too much time worrying about Phillip. Even all that worrying didn't prevent the incident last night." I chuckled at the irony. "Oh well, it was a good thing that it happened when it did or who knows how long I would've been stubborn?"  
  
"I knew you would eventually come around."  
  
"I wished I had earlier." We smiled at each other, the mutual understanding that neither of us would ever get carried away in our eyes. I then directed my attention to Phillip. "You'll return to school and we'll start fresh. Deal?" I stuck out my hand.  
  
Phillip grasped it tight, "Deal."  
  
I yawned. "We better leave him," I heard Herbert say as I fell asleep.  
  
There I was, in a field of daisies. Estella stood on a hill above me, smiling serenely. "Thank you, Pip," she said without moving her lips. Her thoughts seemed to transfer themselves directly into my mind. "Thank you for being there for Phillip and for sending Marbury to prison. I missed you all those long years while I was with Marbury, dear. I worried everyday that I had made the wrong decision. Now with my son safe with you, I can finally rest in peace." Still smiling, Estella then drifted off into the vast sky. I looked up at her from below, tears of joy streaming down my cheeks.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Note: In the original ending, which was note the published one, Estella and Pip meet again while Pip is walking Joe's baby in his stroller. Estella comes along in a coach, looking very depressed and comments on how happy she is that Pip has found someone and settled down. Pip's about to say it isn't his baby when Estella leaves. This epilogue is based on the original ending. 


End file.
